Road to Manantoddy

3-06/09
In 1982 when I got my posting orders to work as Rural Development Officer in Syndicate Bank, Mananthavady in Wynaad District, (Kerala State-India), I was forewarned that it was a difficult area and was considered as a punishment area for the state government staff of Kerala. The general impression about Wynaad was that it was predominantly a tribal district and it used to be the home of militant Naxalbari activities in the late sixties. They also warned me of the incessant rains and the mosquito menace.

Despite all these impressions I fell in love with the place from day one. The winding uphill bus route from Calicut to Mananthavady (then known as Manantoddy- the anglicised version of Mananthavady), was so picturesque that I got spontaneously inspired to write a poem. I scribbled it on the back side of a cigarette packet while making my first trip to Mananthavady.

Ode to the October Breeze

The October breeze felt my skin that morning,
as I started for my first assignment,
“A ticket to Manantoddy, please”-
And the next second all eyes focussed on me.
I felt ecstatic to be the cynosure
as the October breeze felt my skin that morning.

The steadfast bus streaked through spiral roads
as I kept staring at the striking scenery
of the endless greenery and the morning skyline.
I felt levitating to the soaring Wynaad heights
as the October breeze felt my skin that morning.

Everything around seemed to be lively
as the October paddy with panicle heads
seemed to perform ballet in an open opera
to the tune of twittering early birds.
I was dumbfounded at nature’s choreography
as the October breeze felt my skin that morning.

(The poem was published in the June 1983 issue of Giant- Syndicate Bank’s House magazine.)

As days passed by I had already picked up a platter of spoken Malayalam and was out in the fields most of the time mingling with the tribal families and local settlers. In next four years of my stay from 1982, I got so much involved with the people that we were in jitters when we moved out in 1986. In the next few blog posts I would be writing interesting happenings in Wynaad.

Microfinance and Royal Enfield Bullet

2-06/09

Royal Enfield BULLET 350 cc

It was in the late sixties. As a teenager the bicycle always fascinated me but it was difficult to get one with my parents having their moorings in the middle class. Dame luck however struck when I was in the eighth class. My friend Dilip Kumar’s family was shifting to Madras and they donated their cycle to me - an 18 inches Saibro Model. From then on I went to school driving the bicycle, running errands became easy for me and fetching Siruvani water in two heavy Kudams (water pots) became my daily morning routine.

After post graduating in agriculture and landing up in the villages of Nilgiris the Royal Enfield Bullet- the hefty 350CC motor bike, caught my attention and I started dreaming of riding it some day. Later when I joined the Syndicate Bank as Rural Development Officer at Mananthavady in Wynaad the pre-condition to join was to have a two-wheeler license The Manager politely said that the branch had a Bullet and I should get my license immediately. A local mechanic was engaged to teach me driving. I still vividly remember the way he gaped at my lean and puny physique with probably a question in his mind, “How is this 45 kg guy going to handle this 210 kg beast?”

The first day’s exercise was to push the vehicle manually up and down a road and to place it on its stand. It was like dragging a full grown stubborn horse. The next day when I was allowed to sit on the Bullet it was like placing me comfortably on the saddle of the tamed horse. The fear of weight was erased out of my mind and on the third day I was able to drive my dream vehicle on my own. The Manager, Mr PSM Koya was impressed and bought me a new vehicle.

Driving a Bullet in Wynaad was a real challenge due to the bad condition of the undulating roads and the hilly terrain. The worst part was driving on a rainy day and it used to rain for over eight months in Wynaad! Later, on transfer to Kotagiri in Nilgiris, I insisted on a Bullet and those were my best days. Since the vehicle was driven only by me and was serviced by a seasoned mechanic the unique thumping beat was well recognized from a far of distance.

The most risky stretches were however covered when I was attached to the Kollur branch in Karnataka where an old Bullet was used. My Manager Mr TS Bhat and I used to go to Mudoor village driving across a forest area. It was a virtual dirt track where the powder like red soil used to cover the entire vehicle and our dresses. Snakes, monkeys and hornbills were common sightings but the worst of all was the “close encounter of the furry kind”- a bear crossing the Bullet a few feet ahead! Incidentally all my postings were in difficult places along the Western Ghats mostly considered to be punishment areas. Had it not been for the Bullet these postings would have been a punishment for me as well. Thanks to the Bullet, on the contrary I could do my best in those 16 years in the Bank.

Later in 1998 when I quit the bank job to join as CEO of a start-up microfinance institution in Marthandam, the only facility I insisted on was to provide me with a Bullet. It was nice to be back on the Bullet and on the Western Ghats again. My friend, Mr. Jobins and I used to cover many areas every day and those were real hectic days. We used to spend our daytime in the field and spend late nights doing office work. Had it not been for the Bullet we both would have had recurring back pain.

Once a Bullet always a Bullet goes the famous adage among the Royal Enfield connoisseurs and true to it I could complete my silver jubilee having covered over two lakh kilometers on the Bullet. If microfinance is all about financing the poor, I have been practicing microfinance from 1982 onwards and apart from my personal dedication to the cause; it was the contribution of the Bullet in assisting me in reaching out to thousands of poor families.

I owned a Bullet for sometime but had to do a distress sale when constructing my house. Back to square one, I am again dreaming of a Bullet and this time maybe a Royal Enfield Bullet Thunderbird!